ArtAscent_122016

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The two on the rug were children who were engrossed
in a game with each other, clapping their hands togeth-
er and singing a silent song. The third was seated on
one end of the couch watching the two children play.
He lifted his eyes to hers. Those eyes. The same ones
that had looked into hers morning after morning, over
coffee and eggs at the breakfast table.

One of the children now looked up at her and smiled,
then laughed as the other tickled her toes bringing her
attention back to the game they were playing.

She walked carefully over to the man, her man,
treading gently on the floor as to not disturb whatever
beautiful force had presented her with this scene and
invited her to be part of it. She sat down beside him
and he took her hand. She looked down at his hand
over her own; she could feel its warmth and its memo-
ries. She looked up and their eyes met. “Thanks for the
coffee and eggs,” he said. And with no more to say they
settled back on the couch, warm in the glow of the
ever burning fire, watching their children play until they
all fell asleep together, never to wake again.

She was just about to turn in her nightgown, to shuffle
back to her bed, back to her sleepless night, when she
heard a second sound, this time a footstep or three
crossing the house. She was certain now and contin-
ued on her way, slowly opening the bedroom door with
a loud creak. She paused, expecting some reaction to
the door’s voice calling into the night, but when none
came she moved to stand in the doorway, a silhouette
of lace and bones. “Who’s there?” she called into the
night, her voice braver than she felt. She was answered
by silence but for a muffled laugh.


“Who is it?” she called. Again she heard footsteps, light
on the floor, moving quickly. She moved on her toes,
her hand running along the walls of the hallway.


Pushing open the door to the sitting room, she noticed
the subtle glow pouring into the darkness from the fire,
which had not yet gone out. As she walked through the
door, she strained her eyes to see and gasped when
she felt something brush past. She fumbled for the
lamp beside her and blinked it on, bringing the room
to life with all its shadows. There, sitting on the old
tattered couch, and on the red rug given to her and her
husband as a wedding gift, were three figures.

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